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“No writing is wasted. Did you know that sourdough from San Francisco is leavened partly by a bacteria called lactobacillus sanfrancisensis? It is native to the soil there, and does not do well elsewhere. But any kitchen can become an ecosystem. If you bake a lot, your kitchen will become a happy home to wild yeasts, and all your bread will taste better. Even a failed loaf is not wasted. Likewise, cheese makers wash the dairy floor with whey. Tomato gardeners compost with rotten tomatoes. No writing is wasted: the words you can’t put in your book can wash the floor, live in the soil, lurk around in the air. They will make the next words better.”

— ERIN BOW

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a fluffy commission for @percabeth-discord! 

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fluff 14 15

uh, i’m only doing fourteen because it got super long, sorry. since i seem to be mentally incapable of writing pure fluff, this is the best i can do, unfortunately. enjoy some bittersweet fluff!

Sally opened the front door, a warm smile on her face, to let Annabeth inside after she had knocked. Annabeth brushed the snow that had accumulated atop her hat and removed her scarf, grateful to finally breathe normally. Still, it took a few seconds for her to regain her sense of smell and once she did, the smell of freshly baked cookies wafted from the kitchen. Annabeth almost collapsed in a puddle of relief - she would kill a man for some fresh cookies right now, especially if Sally had made them.

“It looks really cold out there,” Sally said. “Hope you’re not staying out too long. I don’t want you to get sick, honey.”

“Yeah, I’m trying to stay inside as much as I can,” Annabeth said, rubbing her upper arms. “Is Percy around?”

Sally nodded and led her further into the house, “He should be in the living room helping Estelle fall asleep. Why don’t you go take a seat, dear, and I’ll grab you some cookies and milk.”

A smile blossomed across Annabeth’s face. “Thank you, I really do appreciate it.”

Sally waved her hand dismissively and said, “There’s nothing to thank me for. You’re practically family.”

Despite her best efforts, a lump formed in Annabeth’s throat. She doubted that Sally knew just exactly how much it meant to hear her say that. She had to look down for a second to bite her quivering lip and take a shuddering breath before she looked up again with a fragile smile. If she tried to say anything, Annabeth knew her voice would crack and make her sound like a dying frog, so she simply nodded, even though she was aware how horribly and utterly insufficient the gesture was to communicate how grateful she was.

Somehow, Sally seemed to know anyways because her eyes softened and she squeezed Annabeth’s shoulder softly before turning towards the kitchen. Annabeth stood there for a second to collect her bearings before she went to the living room.

“Hey, Percy, sorry for dropping-”

She stopped at the sight of Percy asleep on the sofa, Estelle curled protectively in his arms, sucking on her thumb. The slight bit of drool leaving his mouth filled her with a sense of nostalgia. Annabeth made her way over the chair beside the sofa and sat down silently, studying them both. In sleep, Percy seemed to age backwards. All the hard lines of worry on his brow were smoothened, and the tightness and frustration he held in his jaws were released. The fact that he was cradling Estelle just made him look even softer than normal.

Annabeth’s growing smile fell as she realized that the Percy she saw now wasn’t something she had the privilege of seeing while he was awake. A coal of anger burned in her stomach. The idea that the world refused to let him be this way, this version of himself - the idea that the world had beaten that out of him over years of suffering filled her with silent rage. Foolishly, she found herself thinking that she would create a world for them where he could allow himself to be this pure, but an instant later she remembered that that was an impossibility. They lived in a world of gods and monsters, and they were just people. Strong, brave, and determined people, but people nonetheless. And what is a girl to a god after all?

A stray strand of hair fell across Percy’s brow when he shifted subtly in place, and Annabeth found herself moving towards him, her hand outstretched to move it back into place. The ridiculous urge to run her fingers through his hair arose inside her, but she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Sally smiling benignly at her, waiting with a plate of cookies and milk.

Annabeth backed away from him like she’d been burned and rubbed her sweaty palms against her jeans, unable to look Sally in the eye. Through her peripheral vision, she could Sally walking towards her, and her heart began beating faster in her chest, like she was a kid who’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“They’re so cute when they’re asleep, aren’t they?” Sally whispered.

“Yeah,” Annabeth said, her voice cracking.

All at once, it hit Annabeth that the life she had lived was itself an impossibility. She’d run away from home when she was seven without any idea of where she was heading, and the only reason she’d survived that was because of Luke and Thalia. Thalia had turned into a pine tree and Luke had tried to destroy the world. Percy had been prophecized to die, and he chose that fate when Thalia and Bianca had turned away from it. There had been the embarrassing episodes with Rachel, when she was so jealous and frustrated with herself that even being around Percy seemed to hurt. She’d come so close to losing him so many times, but her she was, standing in her boyfriend’s living room, maybe a little worse for the wear, but nonetheless still alive, still breathing. If that wasn’t an impossibility then she didn’t know what was.

Was she allowed to have something like this? Was this something she deserved, after all the things she’d done and been through? Was it okay for someone like her to be this happy?

Percy’s eyes fluttered open, focusing immediately on Annabeth standing beside his mother. A sleepy grin made its way across his face.

“Annabeth,” he said, his voice still heavy with sleep.

Just the way that he said her name, with such aching fondness, made her heart clench a little in her chest.

Sally set the cookies and milk down on the coffee table, a knowing smile on her face. “I’ve got to start working on dinner, so I’m afraid you both will be on your own for a while.”

Once she left, Percy reached out to Annabeth with his free hand. “C'mere,” he said.

Annabeth stepped towards him and released a yelp of surprise when Percy caught her arm and pulled her against him.

“You idiot, I could’ve crushed Estelle!” Annabeth hissed, somehow always saying the wrong thing.

Percy raised an eyebrow and said, “Do you really think I’ll let anything hurt my baby sister?”

Annabeth sighed and said, “I guess you’re right.”

A smile crossed Percy’s face. “That’s a first: Annabeth Chase telling me I’m right about something.”

Annabeth scoffed and playfully shoved him. “Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Percy said, wrapping her in his arms, in between himself and Estelle.

The warmth of his chest against her back and the feeling of his heartbeat vibrating through her skin made Annabeth melt into his embrace. She felt Percy drop a kiss to the top of her head, making her face flush despite herself, so to get back at him, she pressed a kiss to his wrist. Between Percy’s warmth and his steady breathing, Annabeth’s eyelids began to droop within minutes. Just before she fell asleep, for a moment, she was left with the feeling that she’d finally found what she’d been looking for.

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Didn't really liked how it came out but it's here anyways!

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annabeth chase prompt sketch, via my instagram (po1songore)

dont steal my art, use for creative purposes freely:)

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dude i love how chill and selfless you are 😄 by any chance is your wildest fantasy to be Useful?

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where the trees bend low

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biancaaaa

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foolishness can’t exist in a true form in a novel where all the characters have to be smart and ~relatable~. flaws are not set dressing, they act on the narrative, which acts on the characters in turn. it’s not just people moving through a story more or less untouched or unchanged, fundamentally

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i don’t get horror movies, why doesn’t the protagonist just act in a way which will prevent a story from being told or piece of entertaining media made

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This was meant for Nico’s bd (i did this months ago w my old art style 😭

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Nico likes listening to music while training, I just know it (he told me) 🖤🎧

instagram

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reread the wrath of the triple goddess and I had to make fanart

I love my silly little trio

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SIIGH another unfinished sketch. I like the idea of them prepping for college…I PROMISE I’LL FINISH SOMETHING SOMEDAY. 

Commission Info

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stressing about my upcoming cae exam but ghost dropped a new single🫡

anyway 1hr sketch (can you tell it’s the first time i draw 3 characters interacting ffs)

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um guys, I think we need to stop waiting for ‘the right time’ and just start doing the things we want whenever because the right time’s never gonna come, and if we keep waiting it’s just gonna turn into an endless cycle